


Broken Bones

by ObsessedFandomNerd



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Wizards (Tales of Arcadia)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Movie Night, Pre-Series, Serious Injuries, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedFandomNerd/pseuds/ObsessedFandomNerd
Summary: A night of monster hunting leads to an accident and a visit to the emergency room. Douxie tries his best to turn Zoe's frown upside down like only he can.
Relationships: Archie & Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan, Archie & Zoe (Tales of Arcadia), Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan & Zoe, Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan/Zoe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Broken Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: there is one "swear" word, but I didn't think it was enough to warrant a Teen and Up rating.

“Aaahhh!” Zoe shrieked, as Dr. Lake popped her shoulder back into its socket.

Douxie bit down on his knuckle as he watched the doctor help her into a sling. This was all his fault. If only he had been paying more attention. If only he had moved faster…

“That’s quite the injury. Especially for someone your age.”

Dr. Lake’s voice shook him from his thoughts. She picked up a clipboard.

“How did this happen again?”

Douxie and Zoe exchanged nervous glances.

“Parkour accident,” he blurted, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck.

Yes. That was it. A parkour accident. Certainly not falling from a fire escape while chasing after a changeling.

Dr. Lake quirked an eyebrow.

“At this hour?”

The sun had set hours ago. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was already tomorrow.

“Attracts less attention?” he said, forcing a smile, “You know how police are.”

He almost smacked himself in the face. Across the room, Zoe looked like she wanted to do the same. Of all the things to say,  _ that _ was what he could come up with?

Dr. Lake nodded slowly and turned back to her patient.

“Well, you’re free to go. Wear the sling for a few days and no heavy lifting or rigorous exercise for at least six weeks.”

Zoe hopped down from her seat with a grumble and made for the door. Douxie followed close behind, turning to offer a quick “thank you” over his shoulder before following the witch out of the room.

As they walked out of the automatic hospital doors, a black mass of fur darted form the shadows to rub against Zoe’s legs. She cracked a smile and bent down to scratch Archie under the chin.

“My sincerest apologies for not coming in with you,” he said, once he ceased purring, “I will never understand why they allow  _ dogs _ \- the filthy brutes - to enter hospitals, but not  _ cats. _ ”

Zoe chuckled, rising to her full height.

“I hope it doesn’t hurt too badly,” Douxie offered, head tilted downwards.

She shrugged with her good shoulder.

“I've gotten worse than this.”

“Yeah,” he commented solemnly, “1693 was  _ not _ a good year.”

Beside him, Zoe almost growled.

“No.  _ No, _ it was  _ not _ .”

Archie threw a glance up at his wizard friend.

“Some things never change,” he said, “919 years and you are  _ still _ a tactless cad.”

Zoe laughed loudly as Douxie rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Give me a break, Arch.”

He turned to Zoe.

“Think you can manage the walk home or should we hail a cab?”

She shot him a sideways glance with a smirk.

“It’s my shoulder that’s hurt, Casperan, not my legs,” she said, nudging his side with her left arm.

He grinned as he tugged off his jacket and draped it across her shoulders.

“Then you better take this. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold on top of everything else.”

He reached down to grasp her good hand in his, lacing their fingers together, as they began the trek back to her apartment.

\---

Zoe fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock her front door with her non-dominant hand. After three tries, she finally managed to aggressively shove the key into the lock and turn it. She pushed the door open and yanked her key back out of the lock. Douxie shut the door behind them all.

“How about some tea?” he suggested, as she shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair, “Do you have any?”

She moved to the kitchen and began opening and closing different cabinets.

“I think I have one or two packets of chamomile around her somewhere…”

He came up behind her and opened a high cabinet that she was struggling to reach.

“I’ll handle this. You go wash up.”

She looked down at her dirt-streaked shirt and bloody knee peaking through the new rip in her jeans.

“Okay,” she mumbled, before trotting off to the bathroom, but not before Douxie bent down to kiss the top of her head.

He then commenced filling the kettle with water and setting it on the stove to boil, zapping it with a small spell to speed the process along. He placed the chamomile packets in two mugs and then set to scrubbing at his own scraped and bruised arms in the kitchen sink.

As he dried his hands, he heard the faint call of his name from the bathroom.

He entered to find Zoe leaning against the sink, her left fist clenched while her right arm hung limply at her side.

“Something wrong?” he asked, stepping fully into the room.

She glanced sideways at him and tugged roughly at the hem of her shirt.

“I can’t get this off,” she grumbled.

He eyed her tight, black t-shirt and incapacitated right arm. He silently made his way over to stand in front of her.

“You see, the problem here…” he said, grasping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head, “...is that you’re not  _ left-handed. _ ”

He smirked as she gave a quick jab to his ribs.

“Yeah. Unlike some smug bastards.”

He chuckled and placed the shirt on the edge of the sink.

“Think you’ll need anymore help?”

She cast a slow glance over the tiled room and then down at her jeans.

“No. I can handle the rest of this.”

“Alright,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead, “Just yell if you need anything. Tea should be done by the time you’re out.”

And with that, he was gone.

Douxie dropped down onto the sofa and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels, searching for one of those highly inaccurate historical movies. They could both use a good laugh.

Archie leapt up onto the couch beside him.

“The Princess Bride?” he questioned.

Douxie relaxed back into the sofa.

“Mhm. Supposedly set in the Middle Ages, but not  _ one _ mention of feudalism  _ or _ the plague.”

Just as the intro credits had finished, the kettle started to screech. Douxie rose from his seat to pour the piping hot water into the two mugs. He set Zoe’s mug down on a coaster while he sipped at his own as the first few minutes of the movie began to play.

The grandfather had just started to read in earnest when the bathroom door opened and out strode Zoe in a clean tube top and a fresh pair of black leggings, right arm properly back in its sling. She flopped down next to him and Archie promptly curled up in her lap. She gave him a scratch behind the ears, eliciting a low purr from the familiar, as she scanned the TV screen. She turned to look up at Douxie.

“This movie?”

“I thought we could both use a good laugh,” he said, nudging her good shoulder with his, “Now drink your tea before it gets cold.”

She cracked a fond smile as she brought the warm cup to her lips. Then she nestled into his side with a yawn.

“Bet you won’t last the whole movie,” he said, shifting to gingerly drape his arm around her.

She snuggled more firmly into his side.

“You’re on.”

\---

Douxie slowly reached forward to pick up the TV remote as the credits rolled, mindful of the two sleeping beings beside him. He turned the TV off and then reached over to rouse Archie. The familiar stretched and hopped down from his perch as Douxie carefully scooped Zoe up into his arms.

He carried her across the living area to her bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot. He deposited her on the bed and worked to gently remove her arm from the sling.

Despite his best efforts, he must have caused her some discomfort because she grimaced and blearily blinked open her eyes.

“Looks like I won the bet,” he whispered, as she shifted to move under the blankets.

“Mmm. Guess you did,” she muttered, already drifting off once more.

Douxie reached over to adjust the covers around her shoulders, tucking them in more firmly. He then leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight, luv. Sleep well.”

She mumbled out a half-slurred, “Night Doux,” before he rose from her bedside and tread from the room, pulling the door closed silently behind him.

He picked up his jacket on the way out and made sure to lock the front door before heading home for a good night’s rest of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, no hate on The Princess Bride from this author. Honestly it's one of my favorite childhood movies, but in terms of historical accuracy, there's always room to improve.


End file.
